


Not all Dragons and Dandelions

by YellingAtPlants



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Finds Out About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Arthur is smarter than given credit for, Good Morgana (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Merlin Needs a Hug (Merlin), Multi, Mute Merlin (Merlin), Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), but also incredibly dense at the same time
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:07:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24734410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellingAtPlants/pseuds/YellingAtPlants
Summary: In a land of soulmates, and a time of prattish princes, Merlin once again has to clean up everyone’s mess.Basically another soulmate au
Relationships: Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Gwen & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen & Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Morgana (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & the knights, Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 32
Kudos: 214





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is literally just self indulgent crap, feel free to scroll away 
> 
> Not even a little bit proofread, good luck

Before the sun had even broken the clouds on the morning of Arthur’s sixteenth birthday, the Prince found himself roughly dragged down the halls by his wrist. His father had walked into his room that morning in a seemingly good mood, but the second Uther looked at his son he scoffed, frowned and tugged the confused boy away. 

A well known fact in Camelot was that at age sixteen, exactly when you were born, your soulmates favourite word became inked onto your wrist.  
Arthur had nothing. 

Bleary eyed and sleep-mussed from the rude awakening that morning, the blonde hadn’t stopped to consider what his word may be. He supposed it would be something very ladylike and educated, as he was destined to marry some Princess from one of the other kingdoms, but he hadn’t put any thought into it. There was no point musing about something set in stone, after all. The rickety wooden door to the physicians Chambers slammed open under the force of Uthers knocking, and on the other side Gaius startled, jumping away from a boyish looking man, who was mostly just a blur of messy black curls as he ducked out of sight of the King immediately. The old physician raised a hand to his chest. 

“Goodness me, sire, my door!” he exclaimed, bowing slightly despite the clear intrusion. Arthur respected the man for always putting up with the difficult King, and frequently used his teachings when his father was in a mood. 

“It is no matter. Arthur is broken.” Uther thrust the boy forwards, making him stumble and frown.

“Father! What is this nonsense-“ he was cut off by Gaius’ raised eyebrow without the old man saying a word. Arthur -as much as Princes didn’t pout- knew his expression was petulant and childish, but made no move to change it. 

“What appears to be the matter sire?” Gaius, voice as civil as always despite Arthur’s outburst, and despite not being scolded, Arthur felt like he’d just received a lecture, and ducked his head slightly.

“He doesn’t have a word. “ the king huffed, turning away as if Arthur had caused him personal injury. The minute action burnt a line in Arthur’s heart, and he stubbornly raised his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he finally noticed the pale skin on his wrist, plain as all the years before. 

“Oh.” The Prince said, staring blankly at his wrist. 

“Oh indeed.” Muttered the physician, and they all stood in silence.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin whump 
> 
> Because there has to be hurt before there’s comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot twist!
> 
> Well, not really, it was pretty predictable

Merlin had been mute since the first time he was told his babbling was irritating at one, if not a little before. 

Back in Ealdor, although his life with his mother was wonderful, everyone who lived there knew of Merlin’s ‘gifts’ and from when he was very little, he learned that not everyone wanted to see them. There was Will and his mother, but he had nobody else growing up. He spent days, that turned into weeks, sat cross-legged on the sandy floor, dust in his unruly hair and book in his lap, eyes scouring over the pages at inhumane speeds. His mother, as busy as she was trying to keep a young boy alive, didn’t have much spare time to worry about Merlin’s anti-social tendencies, and so the young warlock never left the house unless it became a necessity. 

Which it did in the memorable winter of his fifth birthday. The pale, gangly young boy was forced out of his book by the biting demands of snow. Whereas in the summer and spring their crops flourished and they ate well, the winter months were barren and painful. More so this year than any other.   
Determined to help his mother, as he had been since he was a baby, he had trekked out into the village square, where small stalls had been set up for trade. He hiked his basket of herbs higher on his bony arm, and tottered towards a stall with a kind woman behind it.

‘I have some herbs for you ma’am, if I could have some bread!’ he wrote in chicken scratch handwriting, blue eyes wide at the grainy bread. He was ravenous, shrubs and bark could only keep you going so long, and he needed a successful trade. 

“Two bundles of your mother’s herbs, and this loaf is all yours.” The woman smiled at him, but it seemed strained, put on. He shrugged it off and payed her price, happy to go on his way with the bread. He managed to get two apples to go with their bread before the winter snow began to bite too harshly at his pale skin, numbing his fingers and settling frost on his hair. The thick layers of cold made him stumble as he walked, and he found himself humming a mindless tune under his breath to distract from the cold. 

He was almost home when rough hands fisted into his neckscarf and yanked his thin body away from solid ground. Choking, he scrambled for purchase, the ground seemingly too far away as his legs kicked desperately. 

“Awww. See what this one’s got.” A harsh voice grunted near his ear, and against his will a whimper escaped his numb lips, forcing its way out against his constricted throat. 

“Oh shut up. Your voice is annoying anyway.” The same voice grunted and a finger ran across his drawn cheekbones, tapping the skin threateningly. Merlin’s vision was starting to go black around the edges, and he called upon his magic for help without meaning to. The men all went flying backwards and the boy fell painfully onto his ankle, gasping for breath as something cracked. Tears frozen to his cheeks and skin smarting with frostbite, the boy pulled himself to his feet, pulled his apples and bread away from the men and without a single word, walked away from the scene on a painfully broken ankle, not even a gasp leaving his lips. 

His mother had been frantic that night, and under her overbearing kindness and insistence, he went through four cups of nettle tea. After the second, his shaking had steadied enough for him to tell her what happened, and when he was finished she was livid. Warlock or not, the young Merlin was terrified of the look on his mother’s face and turned back to his mug. 

‘Am I a freak?’ he rasped in her mind, voice rougher than the sand he sat in. He spoke with his mother in her mind, but even then he felt strange. Before he realised it, his hands were tracing patterns and bringing tiny sand models to life. 

And his mother didn’t breathe a word about it, simply whispered “no” and returned to chopping their apples, knowing her child wouldn’t talk to her about it if she pressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 👉🏼👈🏼 Validate me please


	3. Chapter 3

The second time Merlin was attacked it was summer, and he’d finally felt brave enough to venture out into the forest, where he felt free enough to do as he pleased. Warm winds ruffled his hair as he hummed to himself, brushing his fingers through the leaves as he limped along his path, wandering with no destination but ‘out’. Footsteps behind him weren’t noticeable until he was slammed into the nearest tree, his voice cutting off into a yelp as he struggled. 

“Hi, me again, I was wondering if you ever shut up.” The voice in front of his face was an inhumane growl, and for a moment, the little Merlin really thought he’d encountered his first magical being. But, the fantasy was shattered when a very human hand ripped his tunic away and pressed down, hard, on his finger-shaped bruises from that winter. 

“I see you bruise nicely, for a freak. At least you’re good for something. However I couldn’t help but notice you were being annoyingly loud again.” The voice, now partnered with a snarling, bearded face, pressed close against him with breath that smelt of ale and a chest made of metal. Merlin raised his shaking hands in front of his face, and to his horror the man dropped him like he was fire, terrified of him. So Merlin was a freak to be feared. 

“Ah ah ah, I’ll none of your games you silly boy. You’re from the village, am I correct? Ah! No words, just nodding thank you.” The harsh laughter that echoed around him seemed to belong to only the one man, so at least this time he was working alone. Merlin nodded, tears running across his face and his eyes wide in terror, glistening crystal blue. 

“And you appear to have magic! Something that is wonderfully outlawed where I’m from. Say... What if I just, took you to visit where I live? Do you think mummy would miss you?” the tone was sneering, but cut off by a silent spell and a flash of gold light. 

Merlin went to sleep in his mother’s arms that night, and woke screaming at the first sign of morning. He curled up small, cupped his hands over his ears and realised just how much trouble using his voice outside got him into. 

***  
Gaius paced worriedly in front of his young ward, who’s haunted eyes were years away in his mind even as the world turned around him. The king was standing cross armed in the middle of the crowded chamber, and the Prince had settled unsurely onto a bench, still staring blankly at his wrist as though the words would just suddenly appear. The old physician desperately needed Merlin’s advice, but knew the boy wouldn’t speak in his mind while others were around. Gaius was lucky to be included in the trusted list at all, and he was working hard not to break that. 

“Sire, if I could be given some time to think, I am sure I could think of something that could have caused the Prince’s problem.” He mumbled, head ducked to the floor. The king said nothing, but glared at Arthur until the numb Prince rose to his feet, and stumbled sadly after his father.  
And Gaius resented Uther for a very brief moment, seeing the damage the words had inflicted on Arthur.  


‘Gaius why wouldn’t he have words?’ Merlin’s voice was a breath of fresh air in the old man’s head, and he settled on the bench beside his ward.

“Perhaps his soulmate doesn’t speak on purpose, in the hopes the Prince will know when they have spoken.” Gaius mused aloud, relieved when the boy nodded, stood up and pulled down one of the heavy tomes from the shelf, thudding it down on the table. He’d distracted Merlin for now, but he knew it wouldn’t last.  


‘How’s your eyesight old man, up for some reading?’ the voice was teasing and light, and for one moment Gauis wished the poor boy felt he could speak aloud. But he chuckled instead, and allowed the tomb to be pushed across the table to him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pieces start coming together, but both men are feeling rather negatively about this soulmate nonsense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter this time!
> 
> Sorry for the shifting perspectives, I couldn’t settle on one

This was not how Prince Arthur intended to spend his birthday. 

He’d thought maybe, after showing his father his new word and spending the early hours eating breakfast with him, he would be free to go hunting for the rest of the day. 

Alas here he was, sat on his bed with very un-princely tears in his eyes. Arthur Pendragon didn’t cry, if anyone was wondering, but he was dangerously close today. He worried for his soulmate, why they may not have spoken. They were alive, he knew they were, because he still felt them, a warm feeling in his heart that told him how they were feeling, like a subconscious connection to the person he was supposed to love. And yet his wrist remained blank, no matter how long he burnt holes in his skin with his eyes as he drifted in thought. Eventually, with an irritated huff, he slumped back on his bed, glaring at the draperies like they’d done him personal harm. Maybe they had, maybe they had strangled his soulmate. 

He shook his head, launched himself to his feet and stormed out of his Chambers, completely disregarding the guards yelling after him that he was to stay inside. He was sick of the sight of the walls already. 

*****

After leaving Gaius to scour his books in peace, Merlin flopped onto his bed with a heavy sigh, feeling heavy and weary and like the biggest fuck up in the world as he blinked at the ink on his wrist. Each carefully scripted letter curled across his pale skin in beautiful red lines, waving and weaving until it created his word that he’d dreaded seeing since the Prince came in that morning. 

The moment the King had started yelling about his son being ‘broken’ something had shattered in Merlin’s heart, letting an influx of hurt and pain into his mind. These torn and confused emotions weren’t his own, that was clear, but that would mean they belonged to the Prince. And that was impossible. There could be no entertaining even the mere idea of the man being his soulmate, not with their differences in status, but as much as the colour of his hair was, the feelings were unmistakable. 

Furious at his luck, he scrubbed at the words with a cloth until he broke the skin, yet the words didn’t budge, now they were just accompanied by a burning sensation and a deep dread that ran to his bones. He hated this stupid soulmate crap anyway, so, rubbing the tears from his eyes and tugging on his jacket to cover the words, the Physician’s ward swept from his Chambers, intending to spend the day in the forest, away from other people. 

*****

Whoever his soulmate was, they definitely shouldn’t use that much perfume, Arthur decided as he cradled his burning wrist. There were no visible marks there, but the Prince felt like he’d had a cuff on his wrist all morning, chafing the skin and causing the irritation he was feeling. He had to get rid of the feeling, so he headed to the town square, where his servant Morris would be on his one day off. The man was easy to use for his frustrations, target practice was a great way to relieve his muscles. Grinning slightly, the crown Prince went on his way. 

He had been tormenting the servant for hours, not really feeling any better, when he went to throw his last knife. 

Even the gathered crowd couldn’t have predicted what happened next, and they were watching every second in slow motion as a boy appeared and caught the blade that the Prince had thrown at his servant. Morris was cowering on the ground, shield rolling away, but that didn’t matter, because a skinny little freak had just interrupted his fun, not even seeming to notice the knife cutting into his palm. 

“Do I know you?” he huffed, annoyed that some random peasant had ruined his fun. Maybe Morris didn’t deserve that treatment, but the Prince was itching for a fight. The man only shook his head, further aggravating his nerves, and he stepped forward with a growl.

“Im the Kings son, Arthur, and if you don’t get out of here right now, you’ll be my new target.”  
The man simply raised his eyebrows mockingly, and Arthur’s self control splintered, his hand raising. But as it turned out, he didn’t even have to hit the man before he flinched, eyes wide as saucers and genuine terror filling them. For a moment, Arthur swore he felt a flash of pain through his bond, but then it was gone, leaving him with nothing again as the man fled. Annoyed now, Arthur tried to dismiss Morris, only to have his servant shake his head. 

“You can’t dismiss me, I quit.” The way he rose his chin suggested confidence, but his entire body was shaking like a leaf in the wind. Arthur sighed.

“Just go before I send the dogs after you.” Morris scrambled away, heading in the direction of the lower town, and for the first time, the Prince didn’t give chase, just watched him go with his heart sinking. This day was playing out to be a terrible one, and it hadn’t even begun. 

Boring council meetings had him temporarily forgetting about all the soulmate nonsense, but, the moment their honoured guest arrived, his wrist seemed to be the only thing she was interested in. 

He felt distinctly uncomfortable, and excused himself early to prepare for the feast that night. It took him twice as long to dress, alone, and twice his head got stuck, but eventually he was left with just his Cape to contend with. Frustration had him launching the wretched thing across the room, unfortunately right on time for his father to arrive and fetch him. 

Father and son blinked at one another for a moment, at a loss, but then Uther simply turned his nose up in disapproval and gestured vaguely for Arthur to follow him, a servant scurrying in as he left and retrieving Arthur’s cloak. 

The Prince had no choice but to resign himself to fake smiles and hiding real smiles at Morganas snide comments regarding particular members of the high Court.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get off to a great start when Merlin saves Arthur's life, and as a reward...he gets appointed as his personal manservant.
> 
> Wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry its been a few days!

Merlin realised his hatred of this woman had to be for a reason, but for the life of him he could not track it down. She seemed perfectly nice, aside from her obsession with people’s wrists, but each time she spoke Merlin’s very skin crawled with how wrong she felt. Her words were shrouded in the voice of another, creating a grating sound in Merlin’s ears. Luckily, he hadn’t been around her much that day, once she had determined that he wouldn’t speak to her just because she pressured him. 

Which brought him to the big feast. Blinking through his discomfort, he listened as she began to sing. He closed his eyes, feeling annoyingly drowsy as he listened to her voice.   
Snapping his eyes open suddenly, he realised what that ‘wrong’ feeling was. 

She was a sorceress. And not one who meant well. 

Her singing changed into chanting, gold filled her eyes into a dark storm. Instinctively, his own eyes flashed in retaliation, and then the chandelier was falling, crashing down onto the witch and trapping her beneath its entire weight. He relaxed, believing the danger to have passed, but spun on his heel as she let out an ungodly screech, her shaking arm extending. 

Time seemed to slow as he leapt towards Arthur, rolling hard to the ground as the dagger aimed for the Princes heart instead struck the hard back of the Prince's throne. Merlin's back hurt from thudding to the ground, and he struggled for breath as the Prince was pulled to his feet, leaving him to pull himself upright on his own. He didn’t even notice the king was speaking until he was forcefully snapped back to reality by Arthur’s rather loud ‘Father!’ in his ear, and he was scrambling to piece together the situation, reeling from the onslaught of emotions that had flickered through his bond. 

Meaning he was still stood, gaping like an idiot, as everyone left the hall, chattering to one another nervously and brushing past him like he didn’t exist. He shuddered, wrapped his arms around himself, and thanked the gods no one had seen his eyes flash gold as he stared blankly at his wrist. 

Gaius filled him in that night, then left early for his rounds the next morning, meaning Merlin, now personal manservant to the Kings son, was late for his first day.   
He’d done everything in a complete frenzy, his heart racing to the point he felt somewhat faint. His hair was left to curl as it pleased, his neckerchief probably didn’t match his tunic, and his shoes were almost on the wrong feet, but by sprinting, and a small dash of accidental magic, he was at the prince’s room with breakfast just as the prat in question was beginning to stir. He threw open the curtains, practically launched the plate of breakfast at the table, and definitely spilt water all over his tunic, but the prince hadn’t even stirred from where his face was completely smushed into one of the many pillows that all sat in various places around the bed. Merlin frowned, debating the best move. Should he leave the prince to sleep? He did look tired… no. he walked over to the curtains and hid a grin behind his hand, using the other to throw them open, bathing the prince in sunlight. The blonde let out an almost comical yelp, tumbling gracelessly from the bed and landing on his back in a pile of blankets. Merlin struggled to disguise his snort as a cough, watching the prince fight his own blankets on the floor of his chambers.

“Something funny?” the prince was scowling at him, and Merlin realised with a start he’d probably done something very disrespectful by accidentally laughing at him. He shook his head quickly, gesturing vaguely towards the table as he did, meaning he almost tripped and fell, catching himself by grabbing onto the curtain. He was given a very unimpressed look and he smiled sheepishly, feeling very idiotic after only serving the oaf for a morning. 

“There's a list of chores on the table, but i'll also need you to add polishing my armour, mucking out the horses and cleaning my floor to the list. I don’t like how dirty the place is.” although Arthur sounded bored, Merlin felt a flash of satisfaction through his bond and scowled, opening his mouth to retaliate and say something witty, then abruptly closing it when he remembered what happened. He settled for an eye-roll and sarcastic bow, sticking his tongue out when he thought the prat wasn’t watching.

“Saw that.” Arthur didn’t even turn, throwing a goblet behind him and somehow perfectly hitting Merlin's shoulder with an excessive amount of force. 

This was not going to be a fun experience.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur is rather confused by Merlin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A snippet of Arthurs pov while i try and construct a story from this idea lol

Arthur realised quickly that his new manservant was odd. The boy seemed to have no knowledge of being a servant at all, doing almost everything wrong immediately. The prince wouldn’t mind the shabby work if he at least treated him like royalty, but Merlin acted like they were old friends, immediately going for retaliation and insolence rather than subservience. 

If only the boy made sense. He was arrogant and rude, going so far as to deliberately drop things to annoy Arthur as he worked, and yet, when confronted or argued with, he would immediately back down, curling into himself and focusing on his work instead. It puzzled Arthur to no end, but only made it a more interesting situation to deal with that Merlin appeared to be completely silent. He’d almost caught the boy humming to himself when he was doing his papers, but he seemed to come to himself quickly and the sound cut out back into silence.

Later that day when Arthur passed by the armoury to make sure his manservant was doing his job, he could have sworn he heard muffled sobbing, but then Leon had spotted him and decided to give him the daily report right then and there, so Arthur had mostly forgotten about the strong negative feeling in his wrist.

Although, for all his many faults, Merlin had a knack for making the perfect baths.   
Whatever mixture of scented oils, herbs and water he put in there made for a bath that was not only the perfect temperature, but also made his skin soft to the touch for days afterwards. He wasn’t exactly going to tell anybody that part of his life though, least of all his very disapproving father. Although the king had been the one to appoint the boy, he seemed to have an unfair hatred of the new servant. Merlin had even bowed to him, so Arthur didn’t see the issue. Not that the king appreciated anything. 

Arthur found himself wondering why Merlin had come here. He had never seen the boy around before, and he acted as if he hadn’t even heard of a court, so he must have come from a village on the outskirts. But why come to somewhere like Camelot? He huffed in annoyance and settled back down into his bath, his mind going in circles attempting to figure it out. There was something different about Merlin, and he needed to put his finger on it.

**Author's Note:**

> Although if you’re still here I hope to update this quickly and regularly 
> 
> Lmk if you liked it!


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